Larapinta Trail: Section 1- the road less travelled

Day 2 of 18 Tuesday

Mr Willy Wag tail dining on life’s finer trail breakfasts

Getting out of bed is hard at the best of times, but after a shithouse (Australian slang for all my American mates,- it means truly horrible) sleep, slipping and sliding all over my picnic table, being buffeted by the desert wind and my feet throbbing from yesterdays ‘hard slog’ it can make it down right arduous.
So it came as no surprise that dragging my sorry arse out of my sleeping bag to greet the day in a cheerful manner was not high on my priority list. But I had a trail to conquer and lying here was not getting the job done. When I tried to walk over to wake up my offsider, slumbering away on another picnic table, my mood was further darkened by my first couple of steps for this fine morning. They left my whole body feeling like it had been hit by the Darwin to Alice Springs Greyhound bus, spitting me out from under its wheels and leaving me as road kill on the side of the Stuart Highway. I literally had aches and pains on my aches and pains, in places I have never felt or dared comfortable to mention to my Doctor. Hobbling along I am sure I looked quite the sight doing my old man shuffle. My Achilles tendon on my right foot was a tad tender and both calf muscles were getting in early on the protest march as well.
Upon waking Irish (a feat in itself - the girl does like a lie in). I popped on the kettle and settled to peruse the fine ala carte breakfast menu.
Seems like the trail chef didn’t get the bacon, poached eggs, beans and sourdough memo I sent in, telepathically to the catering Gods, instead he was offering me a fine granola bar with hints of wild berries and manuka honey aka a fucking muesli bar from Woolworths. Who was I trying to kid, this was going to be my life for the next couple of weeks. I had better get used to it fast. Savouring a fine instant coffee with hints of caramel (that bit is true) I was doing my usual daydream when an unexpected visitor landed on a branch beside me. It was the local friendly willy wagtail wren, it had come to join in the feast. Landing beside me and jumping on my arm then down onto the table. He chirped away for a few moments with what I envisioned was a rough translation of “Hey old man bit of a tough day for you yesterday I see. Hey what’s for breakfast mate, can I have some?”
To which I replied oh “hello Mr willy wagtail, want some?”, and handed over my delights. I kid you not, he looks, chirps some more to which I translate as - ooh for fuck sake not another fucking muesli bar, really!!! Is that all you got, a fucking muesli bar!! He looks at me some more with the equivalent of willy wagtail ‘puppy dog’ eyes waiting for more choices to be offered and when it wasn’t forthcoming , shrugged his bird like shoulders, conceding beggars couldn’t be choosers and pecked away listlessly until he had his fill. Chirped his thanks and was gone in a flash probably to repeat the process at the next camper’s site in the hope of better pickings.

20km down and only 211lm to go… piece of cake

Breakfast done and dusted, all packed away a plan of attack in place. Irish and I set off for our second day of adventure, destination Simpson Gap, a lazy 10.8km away. Today was going to be a good day, a nice way to ease us back onto the trail. So off we hobbled - a sight for sore eyes - anyone would’ve thought we had just run a marathon given our tender footfalls and guarded gait.
But in all fairness and complaints aside it wasn’t that bad as we loosened up nicely and the body seemed to resign itself to eat some miles up. Plus it was a beautiful morning so the spirits were lifted.
Scorpion Pools was our first scheduled destination and meeting point. Irish and I established pretty early on that we walked at differing paces so rather than wait around for each other we decided to do our own thing and plod along at our own paces, it kind of helps with the Zen thing as well, unwinding with our own thoughts and the beauty of the bush - it really went a long way to destressing us after a long contract in the wilds of the NT and the demanding clients we serviced. We even devised trail codes we would scratch in the dirt to communicate with each other. An arrow for direction, a cross if the path was not to be travelled and the time to let the other know how we were travelling. It worked quite well and if one did not arrive within a given timeframe the other would ditch a pack and walk back on themselves to assist if required. Fortunately that was never required but today was a day where we almost needed that system of help.
Arriving at Scorpion Pool named after the harmless water scorpions that scurry across the surface of the water, that don’t look like scorpions in any way shape, form or fashion. The dude that named them must have been smoking some weird shit. I left an arrow in the dirt for direction of travel and went off the main path to investigate. After climbing up over some boulders and making my way up into a little gorge I was greeted by a little pond of Green slimy water. Surely this wasn’t all there was to see at Scorpion Pool so I decided to press on in search of a majestical pond of water to relax by and have my morning tea whilst I waited for Irish to turn up. Stepping over a small set of boulders onto some grass my foot went straight through and before I knew it I was flat on my face in some reeds and sort of head down and stuck fast, my knee pinned by something and the weight of my pack was pulling me down. A moment of panic endured as I felt water on my hand and wrist as I struggled to sit up only to be pinned by my leg and the weight of my pack on my back pressing me face first on a sort of reed bed hiding more of the pond beneath me. My thoughts were already formulating the story for NT News headlines ‘Larapinta Trail strikes, Nurse found drowned in a pond of green slime, body partially eaten by water Scorpion’

The murderous Green Slime pond filled with carnivorous water Scorpions

Taking a deep breath I chilled a little, laughed at my predicament and struggled out of my pack. When I was pack free I rolled onto my back did a sit up with my Abs of Steel and proceeded to free my trapped leg from the tangle of weeds and branches I failed to notice when I stepped on them.
Now free from deaths door I stood up and quickly looked around to see if anyone was laughing their arse off at my expense. Pride intact I searched in vain for a decent place to rest but promptly gave up after five minutes stumbling around in the reeds, walked back down to the trailhead again and rubbed out my directional arrow. I put a cross on the path blind Freddy could have seen and pushed onto the next planned stop, as this one had clearly been a dud, never to be spoken of again.
Fairy Springs sounded promising but on arrival I saw it had similar topography to that of good old Scorpion Pool so I figured it was also a fizzer. It was probably a majestical pond of little pixie fairies and happiness but I wasn’t going to tempt fate and besides it was smoko (link for my non Australian friends) so I flopped down beside the sign to take a load off.
Irish came in about 45 minutes later, her new fancy boots were giving her curry, resulting in her cramping up and having to take her boots off for a rest every kilometre or so. Which was troubling and potentially a deal breaker because you can’t walk on busted up feet. Fortunately the remaining day was uneventful and we managed to limp into Simpson Gap.
After arriving at the picturesque Simpson Gap we set up camp and proceeded to the designated mobile hot spot. Now if you haven’t seen or heard of these then you can’t be blamed. But they are basically a Northern Territory safety thing, that is best described as a satellite dish you put your mobile phone on to boost the signal and enable you to get a call out in emergencies.
They are probably not designed to purchase new boots on but hey, Irish’s boots were an emergency for her sanity so no foul done there. Numerous dropped calls later and shouting credit card details at a satellite dish with her phone on speaker the job was done. For anyone looking on it would have been quite a humorous event. Needless to say, fast talking aside, Irish had a new set of boots inbound.
Enter our own trail angel “ Big J “ riding in on his new pony mobile. To call him an angel might be a stretch of the imagination but the man is a legend none the less and so are the team at Lone Dingo (local outfitters in Alice Springs) who took the frantic call for help.
Big J really stepped up, not only did the man go out of his way to help, by collecting and delivering the newly purchased boots and bringing them all the way out to Simpson Gap, but he also bought a cold Beer to wash the trail dust away and leftover BBQ steak for dinner. Ok I concede he might just be an angel, just one that’s been hit by the ugly stick a few times. (We love you Big J).
And that was Day 2 done and dusted. The trail threw us a curve ball, we dodged it and lived to tell the tale. Bring on Day 3 I say.

Simpson gap Larapinta Trail- go at last light or first light no tourists makes for a chilled experience